Bedlam in Harmony
Chaplin
There I was, driving the back roads of Chaplin – which, come to think of it, every road in Chaplin is a back road – and happened upon a scene of pure bedlam.
I was on Bedlam Road! Then South Bedlam Road! Then North Bedlam Road! This place is pure Bedlam! Even the businesses here are nothing but bedlam!
Pure craziness in Chaplin, CT. Seeking refuge from all the Bedlam but not expecting it, I was quite pleased find some Harmony amidst all the Bedlam.
And that, my friends, is how Chaplin keeps the peace and doesn’t become the wild west.
Many years ago I worked for the DEP (as it was back then) at Mansfield Hollow, with one of my closest friends – let’s call him ‘Rob,’ and another guy – let’s call him ‘Paul.’ Names protected because, I don’t know why, it’s been 20 years.
Anyway, our office was in Chaplin, though most of the park was in Mansfield. And we would drive through the various intersections of Basset Bridge Rd and Bedlam Rd, or Atwoodville Rd and North Bedlam Rd, etc. every day. To the point that we would assign levels of “bedlam” according to the DEP staff member and the road.
‘Rob,’ he has ‘no’ bedlam (North Bedlam Rd). Me, I have ‘some’ bedlam (South Bedlam Rd.) ‘Paul,’ he has a lotta bedlam (Bedlam Rd).
This story has no other point than, that was an influential summer for me, and has stuck with me, and I’ve never had the opportunity to share that weird inside joke for all these years until now, because someone else noticed some minor weirdness. Thanks, as always, Steve, it weirds me out a little that we gravitate toward so much of the same weirdness.
Also I went hiking in Mansfield Hollow for the first time this weekend in years and it brought back some memories. So. For “Paul,” and “Rob,” and me. Go hike some great trails.